Becoming Rita
by hestia-jones85
Summary: Rita Skeeter is an infamous journalist whose "savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations." But was she always like the annoying pest who Harry knows? What about her story? How did she become the Rita Skeeter we all love to hate?


Ritalina was coming in from the garden when she heard her parents talking inside. She decided to eavesdrop. Maybe they were planning anything special for her birthday.

"Could you call Ritalina?" asked Felicity. "Merlin knows what that girl's doing in the garden this late…"

"Catching fireflies," replied Benjamin. "She likes to keep them in a jar."

"And they drop dead and her room is filled with jars containing carcasses of dead insects," said Felicity irritably. "Why can't she just let them be?"

Benjamin did not reply.

"It's her birthday this Sunday, Ben."

It took Benjamin five seconds to reply. "I'll call her inside for dinner."

"Aren't we supposed to get her something?" asked Felicity coldly.

"I – this is the end of the month, Lissy," he said helplessly. "We don't have much money to spare."

"You don't have to buy her a goblin made necklace, Ben. Just a pet rat or toad would do. We never get her anything decent. What about that fund which we've kept aside for her?"

"She's starting school this year," cried Benjamin. "We need the fund for her wand and school supplies!"

"Oh, all right," said Felicity, giving up. "But we must get her something. A birthday comes only once a year…"

Ritalina went back out the garden. She released the fireflies and sat down on the ground. She wanted to blame someone for her fate, but she could not find a single candidate. So she pulled up some grass angrily and her fingers grazed over something – something that had poked them.

It was a bright green beetle.

"Hello!" said Ritalina sullenly.

The beetle seemed to look up at her in a solemn gaze. Rita giggled and picked it up gingerly. "Want to be my friend? No one else notices I'm there, you know?"

Just as she dropped the beetle in her jar, her father called her from the kitchen door. She got up and went inside.

"Is dinner ready?" she asked her mother.

"Yes, sweetie," replied Felicity. "Will you help me set the table?"

Ritalina nodded and kept the jar on a table.

"Fireflies again?" asked Felicity, taking care to hide the disapproval in her voice.

"No," said Ritalina. "They don't stay with me long. It's a beetle."

Ritalina saw her father roll his eyes.

"A beetle, honey?" asked Felicity. "What will you do with it?"

"I'm going to keep it as a pet," replied Ritalina airily. "I might take it to Hogwarts. First-years are allowed to bring a pet."

"But, honey, no one takes a beetle to Hogwarts as a pet," began Felicity. "They bring-"

Benjamin coughed, cutting her off mid-speech.

Ritalina glanced at her father. "Why don't you get me an owl then? Or a cat?"

Felicity sighed and avoided Ritalina's eyes as she spoke. "Well, dearie, we've to get you a wand and your school things. We'll get you a pet next year, I promise."

Ritalina did not answer. Promises were empty words where she lived.

***

Ritalina was sitting in a compartment alone and sucking the end of a Sugar Quill lazily. A group of girls entered noisily.

"Oh," said one of the new-comers upon noticing Ritalina's presence. She had shiny blonde hair which fell around her shoulders in tight curls. "Are you a first-year?"

"Yes," replied Ritalina tonelessly.

"You can't be sitting here," ordered the older girl. "This is for fourth-years."

Ritalina Skeeter looked taken aback for a moment. Then she craned her neck and nodded her head in the direction of the compartment door. "It doesn't say so there," she said.

The fourth-years laughed. It did not sound friendly. "Margaret," said a rather short and stocky one, "I think she needs some lessons in politeness, don't you think?"

Ritalina stiffened but kept quiet.

"I think so too, Mallory," replied the first girl who had spoken. "But first, we ought to know who our student is. What's your name?"

"Ritalina Skeeter," said Ritalina.

The fourth years laughed again. "Is that even a name?" asked Mallory.

Ritalina colored.

"Right then, Ritalina," said Margaret. "Here's why you can't sit with us. It isn't because you're a first-year and we're fourth-years. It's because you have straggly, ugly blond hair and wear utterly boring, unattractive spectacles. Your robes are second-hand and your stockings have holes in them. And your name sounds like some disease."

Ritalina felt as though she would cry, but she fought the impulse.

"Poor Ritalina looks as though she's about to weep," said Mallory in a mocking voice.

"I won't cry!" shouted Ritalina.

"We'll see," said Margaret.

Five minutes later, Ritalina was outside the compartment. She had been stuck to the door. On top of that, her hair was dripping oil and her glasses had become multicolored. Several of the students laughed as they passed by her. No one really seemed to care about the silent tears which were streaming down her cheeks. After an hour or so, a commanding voice called out through the crowd.

"Clear out, everyone! You are blocking the corridor."

Ritalina heard the sound of several feet rushing away from the spot. Someone tapped her glasses on the side and they became clear instantly.

"Who did this to you?" asked the girl who had shouted at the onlookers.

Ritalina saw her savior was several years older than her and thought she might be able to help her.

"The girls inside this compartment," mumbled Ritalina, wiping away her tears with her sleeves.

"All right, step aside," said the older girl, seething with some sort of quiet anger.

"My hair?" asked Ritalina.

"Oh…" said the girl. "Here. _Finite incantatem_."

Ritalina's hair stopped dripping oil, but it still looked greasy.

The girl raised her wand again and muttered, "_Scourgify._"

Ritalina mumbled a thank you, and the other girl gave a small smile. She forcefully slid the door open. Ritalina heard laughter coming from inside – it stopped at once. She followed to watch the scene.

The girls looked scared. Margaret alone appeared calm. "Emmeline," she said as a way of greeting.

"I should have known," replied Emmeline.

"Known what?" said the other girl pleasantly.

"That it must have been you, Margaret. And your cronies," said Emmeline angrily. "You'll be pleased to know that you've already cost your house thirty points for your juvenile behavior."

"Do you think I care, Head Girl?" asked Margaret, quite unperturbed about the fact that she had lost so many points even before reaching school.

"Another ten points from Ravenclaw!" cried Emmeline. "And we _will_ be talking to Professor Flitwick as soon as we reach school."

"Emmeline," began Mallory in a way that suggested she was trying to soothe the livid Head Girl. "You can't keep docking points from your _own_ house, and there's no need to bring Flitwick into this. I mean, it was just a joke."

"Don't tell me what I can do and what I can't do! Just a joke, was it? Sticking the poor first-year to the door like that? You're all lucky I am not taking you to Dumbledore. Now, apologize to her!"

Mallory and the other two girls apologized to Ritalina at once. It was very insincere, but the latter did not care. She was watching Margaret who had not joined in.

"Margaret," began Emmeline warningly.

"I'm sorry, Ritalina," said Margaret in an even voice.

"Good," said Emmeline. "That will keep _me _happy at least until we get to Flitwick and he gives you detention." She turned to Ritalina. "Rita, were you sitting here?"

Ritalina looked up at her, surprised at the name - _Rita_. No one had called her that before. "Yes, but I don't think I can do so any longer."

Emmeline nodded. "Which ones are yours?" She pointed to a group of bags, suitcases and trunks.

Ritalina flinched a little at the plural. "It's just that brown trunk over there."

"Right. _Wingardium Leviosa_." The trunk rose into air and floated down to a foot above the ground. "You can come and sit with me, Rita. _Locomotor trunk!"_

Emmeline held her wand aloft and walked out of the compartment, the trunk floating ahead of her. Ritalina followed, but before closing the compartment door shut, she took one last look at Margaret. The girl's head was turned towards the window. All Ritalina saw were the tight, wonderfully golden curls.

***

Ritalina Skeeter, now officially Rita Skeeter, was sitting alone in the library. She did not see the boy come and sit down next to her.

"Nose still stuck to your books, Rita?" whispered the boy into her ear.

"Nathan!" cried Rita, jumping. "You gave me a fright!"

The boy chuckled. "You're too studious – even for a second-year Ravenclaw."

Rita sniffed. "You, on the other hand, never pay attention in class and lose house points. What're you doing here, anyway?"

"My brother wanted to speak to you," said Nathan.

Rita blushed– Nathan did not seem to have noticed it. "Henry wanted to speak to me?"

"I think it's about this new section they're starting in _The Daily Prophet_. They want to dedicate one entire page to Hogwarts – every Saturday."

"Sounds great!" said Rita excitedly.

"Dumbledore hasn't given his approval yet. But Pluto Campbell, the editor – Dad's friend – says that the school governors are all for it. He has already appointed Henry editor for the Hogwarts page. Henry reckons the section will start next year since we're nearing the end of this term."

"And?" asked Rita eagerly.

"I told my brother you write stories, and I think he wants you on board."

Rita gave a squeal of delight and hugged Nathan.

"Excuse me!" screeched the voice of a very old woman.

"Madam Bibbling!" exclaimed Rita, gathering her books quickly. Nathan helped her. No one liked to face the old librarian's wrath.

***

"I was selected?" asked Rita excitedly.

"Yes," said Henry with a grin. "I've read your submissions and they were really good."

"Thank you," said Rita, giggling in her nervousness.

"So," said Henry. "I want you to cover the various clubs in the school – Charms Club, Gobstones Club, Chess Club, you know."

Rita's face fell a little. "I – I thought you said that there was going to be a story-writing section, or something of that sort."

"Erm," said Henry. "There's going to be one – but – uh – I think your talent lies somewhere else, Rita. You're good at doing research, you know how to dig up information– and you certainly know how to make the most boring things sound interesting."

Rita blushed at the words. "All right. Who's doing the story-writing section then?"

"Me," said a cool female voice. Margaret Thornton was standing right behind Rita. "Hello, Ritalina."

Rita winched inwardly at the name; no one called her 'Ritalina' now, except her parents and Margaret's gang. "You write stories?" she asked, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

"I do," replied Margaret. "And I do it better than some whose stories are rather … _melodramatic_. Isn't that so, Henry?"

Henry instantly got up from the sofa. "I – uh – Margaret, I think we should get going.

We've a lot to see in Hogsmeade."

Rita registered the urgency in Henry's voice and felt pain rising in her throat. It was intensified when she fully saw Margaret. The girl was dressed in a tightly fitting, slightly low-cut satin blouse and black pants. Her golden curls fell around her shoulders. She looked ridiculously like a Muggle – but she could not be laughed at. She looked incredibly beautiful.

Margaret smiled at Rita in a mysterious way. It was as if she knew about Rita's feelings for Henry. "Yes, _darling_. I'll see you around, Ritalina."

Rita did not say anything. Henry looked at her guiltily and took off with Margaret in his arms.

***

"So, what do you like best about the Charms Club?" asked Rita dully. This was the fourth students' club she had covered for the paper.

The girl she was interviewing prattled on, but Rita was not really listening. A quill was taking down the notes. Professor Flitwick had charmed this quill for her with a non-verbal spell. The man seemed to pity her and Rita took advantage of his generosity at times. But Flitwick always knew what he was doing. She had tried using the quill during Professor McGonagall's class, and it had not budged. Flitwick had charmed it so that it would only work for her interviews.

Rita was extremely bored, not to mention frustrated. She had not planned to sign up for this. She had wanted the story-writing section. Not only would her story get published, she would have the authority to judge others' work. However, she could not turn down Henry. This was the only way she could be near him.

And yet – who would want to read such tripe? Who really cared what this girl liked about the Charms Club? All the good ones – Quidditch, school events, Student Spotlight -- had been taken. She was already unpopular due to her secondhand clothes and books. Why was she being forced to write things no one wanted to read?

Rita, without really meaning to, interrupted the girl. "Have you ever felt left out in the Club? You know, like you're being ignored by the others? Do they laugh at you if you don't perform your spells as easily as they do?"

The girl looked surprised by the questions. "Er…why are you asking me such questions?"

Rita was no less surprised herself. However, she plodded on with them just to make the girl uncomfortable. "Nothing's perfect," she began dramatically. "In a group where there are so many students, nothing can be hunky-dory all the time. I mean, disagreements and competition must be there. It must be hard to survive all that, even worse to fail."

Rita finished her silly speech. It did not make sense to her; it was only a proof of how much she hated her life in general. But to her surprise, the other girl's features changed to one of shame. "Uhm…" murmured the girl. "It _is_ hard, I guess. People think that the Charms Club's pretty harmless. Students meeting to share their interests and to make friends. But there's a lot of rivalry, you know. I shall not name names, but there is this boy who…"

The girl faltered and looked down. Rita was paying her full attention now. She knew something – some huge secret lay in front of her. Of course, she must not force the girl to tell it and wash dirty linen. But…it was so much more interesting than what she was normally forced to listen to. She felt guilty looking for such cheap thrills, but she needed her share of fun at the moment.

"Go on," she whispered.

The girl looked unsure whether to tell her or not. She finally shook her head.

Rita was getting impatient, but she somehow knew she should not discourage the girl with her own eagerness. "I understand it's hard for you to confide in someone about such things, and you don't know me at all. But you'd feel a lot better after telling me, trust me. If it's something serious, the school should know…"

"N-no," said the girl, looking horrified. "I – I don't want anyone to know I said such things about the club."

Rita backtracked at once. She tapped the quill with her wand and it promptly lay still. "Then no one shall know…" she told the girl. "You can just tell me as a friend."

The girl looked at the quill, and then turned towards Rita. "You won't tell anyone? Promise?"

"Promise," said Rita, a little stung by the word which had deceived her too often.

"Well, there is this boy who…"

Rita felt strangely elated by the girl's story. She did not need a stupid quill to record it for her; she was going to remember every detail.

***

"Rita!"

Rita was shocked to find the girl in the bathroom. She had been trying to avoid her ever since the article had come out and had succeeded until now. She decided to go on the offensive. "What?" she asked the girl coldly.

"You promised me!" cried the girl vehemently. "You said you wouldn't write about it."

"Calm down," said Rita in the same cold voice. "I didn't give out the full details, did I? I just wrote that _the rivalry is so intense that people are ready to cheat in class to prove themselves better. _I didn't mention who they were. You should be thankful I wrote it. More people are interested in your stupid club now."

"I don't care! They know that someone in the club blabbed. And it's all your fault!"

Rita laughed. "But they don't know it was you, do they? What are you planning to prove by picking a fight with me? Let them find out that you were the traitor?"

The girl stood fixed on the spot and started crying. Rita suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "That – it won't help. What's done is done. No one knows that – that it was you."

"You don't understand, do you? Parents are writing letters to the Headmaster and he has even spoken to all the members."

"That's good, isn't it?" said Rita stubbornly. "Now he knows what some of the students are like."

"I hate you!" screamed the girl and she left the toilet. Bile was rising in Rita's throat. She ran into a cubicle and vomited. It had been a harmless sentence, really. Cheating was a common school tradition. And Henry and everyone had just laughed when they read the article. It hadn't been such a big deal then.

_Well, I'm used to people hating me_.

Rita went out of the toilet and bumped into Nathan. He was frowning

"Heard everything?" asked Rita morosely.

"Yes. It wasn't exactly quiet."

Something about Nathan's accusing tone irritated Rita. "Funny you should be the one to hear us. I hope you didn't follow me just to eavesdrop?"

Nathan flushed. "No, I didn't! I've been _looking_ for you, not following you."

"Why?" demanded Rita. "Couldn't you have just waited in the common room?"

"I never see you in the common room these days," replied Nathan hotly. "You're always hanging out with your _Prophet _pals."

Which was true, so Rita didn't argue. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I've been busy lately, but this means a lot to me. People _are _reading something I've written - they even recognize me now."

A curious expression passed over Nathan's face. "Okay," he said. "Are you working this evening?"

"No, I've already submitted my article. But Henry might want to-"

"He's with Margaret," cut in Nathan. "I don't think you're having a meeting tonight. Can't you come with me and play – wizard's chess or something?"

Rita smiled reluctantly. "Of course…"

***

"Hey there!"

Rita looked up and saw Henry approaching her. "Hello!" she said breathlessly.

"Finished the work on the Transfiguration Club?" asked Henry, sitting down on the chair opposite her.

"It just needs a bit extra, and then I'll be done."

"You know what, Rita," said Henry seriously. "I don't think doing clubs is your thing."

Rita gaped at him. "You don't mean – you're not firing me, are you?"

Henry laughed. "Of course not! You're the best we have. I want you to do something else."

Rita held her breath. "The story-writing section?"

"Er – no." Henry smiled apologetically. "I was thinking about Student Spotlight."

Rita's look of disappointment changed to one of relief. That was better than clubs at least. "Sounds like a good change for me."

"It's a good change for us too," said Henry. "Richard's interviews are a bit colorless. You could add some life to that section."

"Thanks," said Rita. Then, she remembered something. "Henry, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for some time."

"Sure, go on."

"That article I wrote on the Charms Club – the part about the cheating. Did that cause a lot of …problems?"

Henry grinned. "Nah! It was genius. I don't know who your "reliable source" was, but it drew a lot of response from the readers. Professor Dumbledore called me, though."

Rita winced. "Was he angry with you?"

"Not really," said Henry. "I thought he'd be. He just told me to be careful with sensational stuff."

Rita breathed a sigh of relief. "I have a feeling he doesn't like the paper."

"He's just old-fashioned," said Henry. "We're going about the right way, though. We're making our future."

Rita smiled. She liked being a part of a future which included Henry in it.

***

"Tell me a little about yourself," asked Rita. She was interviewing Rohit Patil, who had topped their year.

"Uh…what do you want to know?"

Pursing her lips slightly, she tried again. "Let's start with your hobbies. Then you could tell me what your favorite subjects are, how many hours you study on an average day…"

Rohit started talking enthusiastically, and Rita's quill took notes in a feverish speed. Once again, the boredom was settling in. She was looking at Rohit without really seeing him.

"And – uh – that's it," finished Rohit.

'Thank you," said Rita, forcing a smile. She looked at the long list of questions she had prepared. They all looked excruciatingly familiar.

"Are you bored, Rohit?" she asked. _Maybe the trick would work again_.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you bored of being the best student in the class? Do you sometimes wish you were popular instead of bookish? Do you have a crush on any girl?"

Rohit looked stunned by the questions. "I – er - I haven't really - I don't know."

"Are the questions making you feel uncomfortable?" asked Rita.

"Yes – I guess."

"Don't be," said Rita, winking on an impulse. "These are the things people want to read about you. We all know you're the best student in your year. But what about the secret Rohit?"

"Uh – okay," said Rohit, grinning sheepishly. "I do get somewhat – sometimes I wish…"

***

Rita was sitting alone and was enjoying the solitude offered by the large, empty room. Really, life was turning around for her. Henry kept praising her, most of the school was aware of her existence and the rest of the _Prophet _committee liked her – all, except Margaret. But then, Rita found herself not caring for the girl's opinion.

Nathan seemed to be another exception. Rita knew he cared for her as a friend, but he was a bit _possessive_, and perhaps a tad envious. He'd purse his lips if she got too enthusiastic about the _Prophet_. Wasn't he supposed to be her friend, though? Weren't friends supposed to be happy for your success?

And success had come to her finally. She was no longer the favorite victim of Margaret and her gang. They had been horrible to her during her first year, taunting her about her secondhand belongings and making fun of her appearance. However, Emmeline Vance's formidable presence had deterred them from hexing her. After Vance's graduation, the bullying had grown worse. Only Nathan had stood up for her.

This year, of course, the bullying had stopped altogether. Her becoming a part of Henry's team had ensured that. People were no longer laughing at her. In fact, they respected her now because of her successful articles.

_And no one really cares about Margaret's stories_, she thought with satisfaction. She wondered why she herself had wanted that section. It was boring, really. No one wanted to read stories written by a teenager – they talked about heartbreak and golden haired witches being saved by dashing wizards. Margaret's stories were like that. Rita's own stories had been worse. Most of them had been about talking fireflies and beetles!

No, that wasn't what she was meant to do. Writing about the real world – people you knew existed, events that were occurring around you – this was her priority now. She wanted to be a reporter, and Henry already had a job waiting for him at the _Prophet_, so…

The common room door opened suddenly and Rita jumped. She heard two familiar voices laughing as they entered. Not wanting to be seen, she quickly slid down on the floor, hiding herself behind the couch she had been sitting on.

"Margaret," said Henry tenderly, "won't you sit here with me for a few minutes?"

"No," replied the girl who Rita hated more than anyone, "I've just been sitting with you the entire night. I must get some sleep."

"Just five minutes," said Henry, sounding like he was begging. "Please, just sit down here."

Margaret did not reply, but she seemed to have sat down wherever Henry had wanted her to.

"I wanted to ask you something," said Henry softly.

"What?" asked Margaret. Her tone implied nothing but impatience.

"I'll get a job at the Prophet as soon as I graduate…Will you marry me then?"

Margaret laughed. "You're just sixteen, Henry. I don't think this is the time to talk about marriage. We still have miles to go."

Henry stayed silent.

"If that's all you wanted to say, then can I go? I really am sleepy, you know."

"Yeah, all right," mumbled Henry.

Margaret left the room, and so Henry got up from the couch after some time. Rita cautiously peeked from the side of the sofa to watch him as he went to his dormitory.

***

"Here's to the first anniversary!" said Henry, raising his bottle of Butterbeer.

The entire paper staff except Margaret Thornton was at The Three Broomsticks.

"And the paper's a huge success!" declared Richard.

"Of course it is," said Mafalda, who covered school events. "We always knew it was going to be."

"Dumbledore still seems quiet about it," mused Samantha, head of the Poetry Section.

"It's because we proved him wrong," replied Rita.

"_You_ proved him wrong, Rita!" said Henry enthusiastically. "Your Student Spotlight is by far the most popular."

"Well, I'm interviewing all the famous students, aren't I?" said Rita smugly "Ludo Bagman of Hufflepuff, Kingsley Shacklebolt of Gryffindor, Lucius Malfoy of Slytherin. I knew the trick was in selecting the interviewee. People don't want to read about the same type of student over and over again. A little bit of variety helps. And these are promising students, after all."

"Lucius Malfoy was an odd choice, though" said Samantha.

"He may be just a first-year," defended Mafalda, "but he's the heir of the Malfoy family."

"In any case, you know how to write about them in a way which draws people's attention," said Henry. "Pluto Campbell reckons you should become a reporter."

A faint blush was creeping into Rita's cheeks again. Henry smiled at her; the smile turned into a wide grin. "Margaret! Come join us."

Rita's stomach tightened as the others said hello to Margaret Thornton.

"Hello, everyone!" said Margaret without looking at Rita. "May I steal my boyfriend for some time?"

"Of course," said Mafalda, laughing sycophantically.

Henry got up obediently, much to Rita's disappointment. "Guess we'll all meet tomorrow then. Six o'clock in the Charms classroom."

"Yes, boss!" said Mafalda with a salute.

Rita watched the retreating backs of the two lovers with a bitter expression on her face.

"I don't like it," said Samantha. "She never comes to our meetings. And she's always taking him away if he spends too much time with us. Does she think we're going to steal him or something?"

Mafalda stared at Samantha. "She's his girlfriend."

Richard coughed. Mumbling something about wanting to visit the loo, he got up and left the table.

"She thinks we're beneath her," spat Samantha. "She only writes those stupid stories while we've to work hard and run around. Just because she's a Thornton doesn't mean she's a cut above the rest of us."

"The Thorntons are one of the richest pureblood families in the country," insisted Mafalda.

"So? I've heard that her parents are quite horrible to their workers. What does wealth have to do with the worth of a person?"

"What?" asked Rita. Mafalda looked scandalized.

"Well, it's what Bertha says. Her mother works at their Manor."

"Who's Bertha?" asked Rita.

"Bertha Jorkins. A first-year in my house…"

***

Rita was searching for one girl among a sea of Hufflepuffs. Samantha had described her as someone plump with brown hair. She finally spotted someone who fit Samantha's description. She walked towards the Hufflepuff table and tapped the girl on the shoulder.

"Bertha?"

The girl turned around and started. "Rita Skeeter!"

"Yes," replied Rita. "You're Bertha Jorkins, aren't you?"

"How do you know me?" asked Bertha.

Rita smiled at Bertha encouragingly. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

"Sure," said Bertha eagerly.

Many students waved at Rita. She gave them all a gracious smile as she led Bertha away from the Great Hall.

"Are you going to interview me?" asked Bertha.

"Something of that sort, yes," replied Rita pleasantly. "Why don't we go and sit down near the lake?"

"Anything!"

They reached the lake and sat down on the bank. "Fine weather, isn't it?" began Rita.

"Yes," said Bertha, nodding vigorously.

"So, Bertha, how would you like to be my right-hand girl?" asked Rita.

Bertha's eye widened. "I thought you were going to-"

Rita laughed. "Bertha, if you help me, you're bound to be in Student Spotlight one day. But you need to work your way there first, you know."

Bertha looked uncertain. "What do I have to do?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Rita in an assuring voice. "Just a little bit of information on people so that our Student Spotlight gets more interesting."

Bertha giggled. "Information on people? You mean like gossip?"

Rita was pleased by the girl's apparent liking for gossip. She would come dead useful later.

"Not exactly like gossip," said Rita carefully. "I want solid facts, and I think you can be relied upon for those."

"Of course," said Bertha proudly. "Anyone you want to ask about now?"

"Why don't we start with…Margaret Thornton?"

Bertha frowned. "What d'you want to know about her?"

Rita knew she would have to be cautious. "Nothing much...I hear your mother works at her Manor. What are Thornton's parents like? Nice employers?"

Bertha hesitated so long Rita thought she might not talk. But the other girl seemed unable to resist and answered at last. "Not really. They're quite rude, you know. And they don't pay well, that's what my Ma says."

"I see…" said Rita. "Why don't you tell me the full story, Bertha?"

Bertha shook her head, although her eyes were shining with eagerness. "If you publish it, Ma would lose her job."

"Don't be silly!" said Rita. "I can't write stuff like that. But I _would_ appreciate a little background information on who I'm interviewing. I'm putting the Spotlight on Thornton next."

Rita knew, as usual, that her reasons and excuses were always invalid. She also knew, as usual, that there was something in most people that made them want to discuss things they were not supposed to. They just needed a bit of goading.

"Did you know that Margaret is engaged to Simon Rosier?" asked Bertha slowly.

"What!" shouted Rita.

Bertha chuckled in a satisfied sort of way. "She got engaged last summer. She's in her seventh year, isn't she? Ma reckons they'll get married as soon as she graduates."

"But – but," spluttered Rita, "she's going out with Henry Corner!"

Bertha laughed. "Do you think Margaret would marry someone like Corner? Corner may be popular, but his family is certainly not in the upper league. _And_ he's a half-blood. The Thorntons would never let any of their children marry someone other than a pureblood."

"Why's she going out with him then?" cried Rita.

Bertha looked at Rita pityingly. "Margaret has to have her toy. Her family knows she's dating Corner. Even Rosier knows. They're all having a laugh over it."

Rita was stunned. She felt a strong surge of hatred towards Margaret Thornton. Margaret had no right keeping Henry for herself when she obviously did not love him. "How come no one knows?" asked Rita.

"They're keeping it quiet. I think it's because Margaret wants to have her share of fun before leaving school."

Rita stayed silent for a moment.

"There's more!" said Bertha, giggling.

"Yes?" asked Rita.

"Margaret's father has a mistress in France. He and Mrs. Thornton have had fought a lot over it."

_Perfect_, thought Rita.

***

Rita had been waiting for Margaret Thornton in the deserted common room. She did not mind, though. She had waited four years for her revenge. Two hours was nothing compared to that.

Margaret Thornton entered the room with a laughing Henry. "Ritalina!" she said, smirking. "I was thinking you would never put the Spotlight on me."

Rita smiled without meaning it. She was getting good at living behind this mask. "Oh, let bygones be bygones. It would be unfair to Hogwarts to let you go without celebrating you."

"Well," said Henry. "I'll just let you two carry on then." He kissed Margaret on her cheek and said goodnight to both of them.

"No need to flatter me so and waste precious time, Ritalina," said Margaret as soon as Henry had gone. She lay down luxuriously on the sofa. "I've just had a rough night with Henry up in a secluded classroom. Shall we make it quick?"

"Sure," said Rita sweetly. "If you're ready. Tell me what you like best about Hogwarts?"

"Just boring, harmless questions then?" pouted Margaret.

"Don't worry," assured Rita. "My interviews always turn out interesting in the end."

***

"Is this true, Rita?" asked Henry, his voice shaking with emotion. "Whatever you've written here?

"Yes," said Rita in a somber voice.

"She – she didn't deny any of it?"

"She wouldn't admit at first, but in the end, she confirmed it all. She said she was tired of pretending. This was her way of coming clean with the world – and with you."

"Did she have to – why was she dating me if she was engaged to Rosier?"

Rita bit her lip. "Actually, Henry, the question is, why did she get engaged to him if she was dating you?"

Henry collapsed on the chair. "I don't believe this. Why did she do this to me?"

Rita sat down next to Henry and patted his hand. "Don't be too harsh on her. She's just trying to cope with her father's promiscuity."

Henry did not speak for a long time. He ran his hands over his head and closed his eyes.

"That ring which she wears on her left hand - "

"It's her engagement ring," confirmed Rita.

"She lied to me," said Henry bitterly. "I asked her why it had an 'S' inscribed on its face, and she said it stood for Salome – her mother."

"Henry," said Rita with a sigh. "She only started wearing it when this school year began."

He fell silent again.

"Do you think we should publish this?" asked Rita, keeping her voice in check.

It was a long time before he spoke. "Yes, if she wants this story to be told, it shall be."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to her about this? Just to make sure?" asked Rita. Her tone was still earnest, but she was hoping he would say no.

"No," said Henry finally. "I don't have anything more to say to her."

***

The next Saturday saw Hogwarts buzzing alive. Margaret Thornton's interview had been published, and everyone was discussing what it had revealed about the family.

Rita was very pleased with the outcome. She hoped Thornton would come to her. Her wish was granted later that night when she was sitting alone in the common room, revising for a test.

"You bitch!" screamed Margaret.

Rita looked at her rival and grinned. "Told you my interviews always turn out interesting."

Margaret drew her wand but Rita acted faster. "_Expelliarmus_!" she cried.

The wand flew out of Margaret's hand and landed ten feet away from her. She did not go to pick it up but shouted at Rita. "I never said anything about my father or my engagement with Rosier. How the hell did you find out?"

"I have my sources," said Rita, still grinning.

"You filthy little liar!"

"_Filthy little liar_?" said Rita. "Look who's talking. You should have told Henry about that minor snag in your relationship."

"You lied! You wrote that I cried and told you everything. I never did! We never talked about any of that stuff."

"A bit of drama helps, Margaret," replied Rita coolly. "_You_ should know better. Remember our first ride in the train together? You had a flair for drama back then."

Margaret appeared too angry to speak. Then, she narrowed her eyes. "This is about Henry, isn't it?" she said slowly. "I've seen the way you look at him. You like him, don't you?"

This time, Rita was silent.

Margaret threw her head back and laughed. "Remember what I said that day, Ritalina? I told you that you are ugly and poor, and your hair is dirty and unkempt. Henry was never going to notice you. Who would? He loves me in spite of everything. He'll always love me. He's never going to give you my place. Never!"

Rita felt a familiar pain rising in her throat, but she could not let Margaret win now. "So?

At least, my father doesn't hex his wife or keeps a seventeen year old mistress in France."

Margaret screamed and lunged at Rita. Rita's wand was knocked out of her hand as Margaret pushed her back on the couch. Rita kicked at Margaret but a heavy blow struck her on the side of her head. She heard people shouting before losing consciousness.

***

"Enter!" said the firm voice of the Professor Dumbledore.

Rita entered the Headmaster's room.

"Miss Skeeter," said Professor Dumbledore. "Please have a seat."

Rita thanked him and sat down.

"I don't know if Mr. Corner has told you, but the Hogwarts page is going to be discontinued."

"What?" asked Rita in surprise.

"In the light of recent events," replied Dumbledore calmly, "I, as well as the school governors, have decided that it would be unwise to carry on with it."

Rita gaped at the Headmaster. "But – but Professor, we were doing so well."

"So well, indeed," said Professor Dumbledore, peering over his half-moon spectacles at her, "that one student had to leave the school before completing her studies."

"It was her fault," cried Rita. "She nearly killed me!"

"Would she have attacked you if she had said those things in the interview herself, Ms. Skeeter?" asked Dumbledore seriously.

Rita pursed her lips.

"The interview may have told the truth," continued Dumbledore in the same serious tone, "but it is my belief that she never volunteered any of it. That is why I have called you, Miss Skeeter. I would advise you not to start any more scandals at school."

Rita opened her mouth to protest but Dumbledore raised his hand. "You may leave."

***

The seventh-year Ravenclaws were celebrating the end of term. All others, except for sixth-year students, had been ordered to turn in early for the night. Rita had however been invited by Henry as it was her birthday. She was perched on a table, enjoying the scene. It was the best birthday party she had ever had, even though they were not necessarily celebrating that particular event. Her parents had sent her nothing, as usual, but she had not expected them to in any case. Nathan, on the other hand, had given her a silvery chain which had a bejeweled ladybird for a pendant.

Henry had not allowed her any drink, so she sipped a Butterbeer. Nathan should be here, she thought. But the boy had become so distant in the past few months. Rita wondered if it was jealousy. _No, it couldn't be_. Nathan had always wanted what was best for her. The fact that he still remembered her birthday and got her a present was proof.

Maybe it was good that he had not come. She wanted to spend some time with Henry.

Henry was walking towards her, cutting through the crowd. His steps were unbalanced and he seemed to be grinning for no reason.

"Rita!" he called. "My star reporter, everyone! Wish her a happy birthday."

Some of the students raised their drinks to her and shouted "Happy Birthday, Rita!" Then they went back to whatever they had been doing. Rita giggled. "Thank you, Henry."

"Dance with me!" said Henry loudly.

Rita swiftly jumped off the table and accepted his hand. They moved to the center of the room and started dancing. Henry pulled her close to him and Rita giggled nervously. "I can't breathe, Henry," she said.

"This room's stuffy, that's why," replied Henry, laughing. "Let's go out."

He took her hand and headed for the door. "Where are we going?" asked Rita anxiously. "It's well past midnight. We shouldn't be going out."

"Since when have you become such a stickler for rules?" asked Henry, laughing again. "I want to take you somewhere private."

Rita felt her heart stop. After all this time…Henry seemed to have started liking her. _You were wrong, Margaret_. It looked like she was finally going to get a decent birthday present for the first time in her life.

They went out of the common room and headed upstairs. Rita hoped they did not meet Filch, the new caretaker. He was slightly manic when it came to being out of bed at night. However, they managed to reach the Astronomy Tower without the slightest hitch. Rita took it to be a good sign.

"Let's sit," said Henry.

They sat down in one of the niches. Henry pulled her closer to him. "Mmmm…" he moaned.

Rita suddenly felt scared. _She was only fifteen_. She could not let anything serious happen now…then Henry started kissing her neck and she stopped worrying.

"Wonderful curls," remarked Henry.

"Sorry?"

Henry smiled and sat back. "I said your hair looks nice." He took Rita's hair in his fingers and rubbed his fingers against it as though examining its texture.

Rita felt her cheeks glow. "Oh…I got them curled tonight for the party," she admitted.

"She had curls exactly like these, you know," continued Henry. "Except that – except that her hair was a lot more – golden. Beautiful…"

Rita froze. "I think we ought to get back," she said curtly.

"No, I'm sorry," said Henry earnestly, pulling her closer to him again. "We shouldn't be talking about her tonight."

He pulled her chin towards her and kissed her. Rita was slightly turned off by the smell of his breath, but that did not stop her from kissing him back with passion.

"Margaret," he murmured.

Rita pulled away from him and got up. "We should really get going."

"Margaret," said Henry again. "I love you."

Rita left him. As she walked back to her dormitory, she gave in to her tears after four long years.

***

"Hey, Rita!" called Henry.

Rita had been walking towards her parents. She stopped. "Yes?"

"Dad has just told me. Pluto is going to get me a job at the Prophet."

"Congratulations!" said Rita. She tried searching into Henry's eyes for some sign that he remembered what had happened that night in the Astronomy Tower. There was none.

"That's not all," said Henry excitedly. "Pluto wants you too as soon as you graduate."

"Really?" squealed Rita.

"Yes!" shouted Henry, pulling her into a hug. "I'll go now," he said, letting her go. "See you in three years."

***

"Excellent!" said Henry. He chuckled as he read the article on the affair between a well known member of the Wizengamot and a Veela. "How did you even manage to get this scoop?"

"I have my sources, Henry," said Rita with a mysterious smile.

"Ah…yes, your enigmatic sources…," said Henry, grinning. "You must not leave early today, Rita. Someone's coming to the office and I think you should meet him."

"Who?"

"Nathan," replied Henry. "You will be meeting each other after so many years."

"When?" asked Rita delightedly.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Speak of the devil!" cried Henry.

Nathan entered the room wearing a smile which did not reach his eyes. "Rita," he said, offering his hand. "Long time. How have you been?"

"Great, Nathan," said Rita, shaking the hand of the first friend she had ever had at Hogwarts.

"Well, you two have a chat," said Henry jovially. "I've to go and finish some work. Then we can all go out for a drink."

***

Rita and Nathan had decided to go to the restaurant and wait for Henry there. They were shown into a private parlor by the waiter. Rita and Nathan thanked him and sat down.

"Where have you been?" asked Rita, smiling warmly. "You just took off after graduation without telling anyone anything."

"Ireland," replied Nathan, playing with a napkin. "I married a girl and settled there."

"Anyone I know?" asked Rita.

"No, she didn't attend Hogwarts."

"Oh!" said Rita. "What about children?"

"I have a three year old son, Michael." Nathan stared at her. "Henry never told you?"

Rita blushed.

"You never asked him," continued Nathan. "And, Henry, of course, has lost interest in most things. The _Prophet_ is the only thing that keeps him going."

"I know," said Rita.

"You do?" asked Nathan, raising his eyebrows. "Henry has never been the same since that interview on Margaret Thornton got out."

Rita pursed her lips. "She never deserved him. In case no one noticed, she had been deceiving Henry all along."

Nathan considered Rita. "You hated her, didn't you? You hated her for making your life hell."

Rita ran her fingers along her crocodile-skin handbag and didn't reply.

"And you liked Henry, of course," said Nathan, nodding to himself. "I always knew that. I wished – I desperately wished you would see the truth and start living life without those two occupying your mind. Henry loved Margaret. He still does. That's why he has never married, you know."

"She never deserved him, Nathan," said Rita a little more forcefully. "She was going to marry Simon Rosier. Even if I hadn't written about it, he would have found out. It was just a matter of time. The society pages would have flashed the news anyway. She was never going to give up Rosier for him."

Nathan kept looking strangely at her as though he was studying her. "So…she never said any of those things in the interview herself, did she?"

Rita colored. "Does it matter? The truth got out before Henry could get his hopes even higher."

"I see…" said Nathan. "And you thought _you _would fill up that void in his life?"

"What do you mean?" asked Rita, her voice an octave higher than normal.

"You colored your hair and curled it just the way Margaret's hair used to look like," said Nathan mercilessly. "You started wearing all these showy clothes, painting your face and nails. You even changed your spectacles into those hideous bejeweled ones."

Rita gaped at Nathan. _Why was he being so cruel_?

"You know what you look like? A breathing caricature of Margaret Thornton."

"You have no right to speak to me like that," cried Rita suddenly. "_No right!_ Who do you think you are, Nathan, arriving after all these years and accusing me of taking away Henry's happiness? In case you failed to see, _I _am the one who's still getting him through life! You, on the other hand, left him alone. Your parents could do nothing to help him out of his misery. But I went back to him. I went back to him even though he never loved me. I went through so much to help him keep the paper run smoothly."

"Are you implying that you're in the _Prophet_ just for him, Rita?" asked Nathan incredulously. "Are you telling me that you saw nothing in it for you?"

"No," replied Rita in an even voice. "You're right. I'm doing this for myself too. Before the _Prophet _came into my life, I had no identity. No one knew me. No one liked me. No one respected me. I was just a poor and ugly bookworm who kept insects for pets because her parents couldn't even afford to buy her a rat. The _Prophet_ saved me from all that and I decided to stick with it. You, of all people, should have known that."

Nathan was quiet for some time. "So, are you happy with the life the _Prophet_ carved out for you?" he asked, his voice containing nothing but curiosity.

Rita did not look away as she answered in the affirmative.

"All right," said Nathan. "Then I _should_ be happy for you."

"You pitied me, Nathan?" asked Rita, raising her eyebrows.

Nathan shrugged. "I was just wondering if you were ever aware of the other choice you had. Just to be Ritalina, the girl I was friends with. The one with the stockings full of holes and the second hand books; the one who fascinated me with her stories of fireflies and beetles. She always felt…real. I confess I was in love with her for a long time."

Rita was stunned. She could not speak; she just kept staring at Nathan as though she had never clearly seen him before.

Nathan smiled apologetically at her. "I loved you, you know. I fancied you even before I knew what it was to fancy someone. Then, the _Prophet_ entered our relationship. I was happy and excited for you at first. You loved writing and I thought it was a great opportunity for you. Then, somewhere along the way, things started changing. You grew distant from me, you became different. You no longer had time for me. I could see that you liked Henry – I realized that after a while. I hoped you would give him up because, trust me, he was crazy about Thornton. If Henry had loved you, Rita, I would not have minded so much."

"But – but, Nathan, you never said anything to me."

"How could I have?" asked Nathan, still smiling in that apologetic sort of way. "I thought that after Henry left, I'd try to bring you back to me. Maybe, after the whole thing blew over, you would start to see things in a different way. You'd got a little obsessed with the paper and in the end, it didn't do you much good. I wanted you to get away from all that and start writing your stories again. But you had removed yourself from my life almost completely." He paused. "Then, Henry said something over the summer holidays and I gave up."

"What did he say?" asked Rita, although she suspected she knew what it was.

"He said that he kissed you in the Astronomy Tower," said Nathan. "He told me he did that because he was drunk that night and had confused you with Margaret. We had a huge fight over it, you know." He laughed sadly. "I told him to leave you alone because he didn't love you and never would. I told him to stop using you and your weakness. He said that – that you had a choice, and if you didn't take it, it was not his fault."

The world seemed to be closing in on Rita. "Why…" she began weakly, "why are you telling me all this now?"

"There might still be time, Rita," said Nathan urgently. "There might still be time to change and be real and stop pulling all these attention-seeking stunts."

They looked hard at each other for a long time. It was Rita who looked away first. "No, Nathan," said Rita, shaking her head resolutely. "There isn't any time. This is what I've become – Rita Skeeter. And Rita Skeeter cannot live otherwise. She has to continue writing for her readers and…she loves Henry, like you said. As for the other choice, it has long gone, hasn't it?"

Nathan continued studying her. His expression could have meant anything – disgust, pity, grief, anything. But before Rita could correctly decipher its meaning, Henry arrived. Her heart lifted and she knew nothing had changed for Rita, at least.

***

Rita was just walking into her cubicle when Shane MacFadden, a fellow reporter, hailed her from his seat.

"Hey, Rita, come over here."

"Hello, Shane," said Rita, "you look excited."

"Shouldn't you be too?" asked Shane. "I mean, you and Henry are so thick…"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Rita in confusion. "Henry? What are you talking about?"

Now it was Shane's turn to look confused. "You really don't know the latest? Blimey! You're always the first to know things." He laughed.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Rita.

"Henry's getting married," replied John, grinning. "I must say I enjoy breaking news to you."

Rita was too shocked to speak.

"And he's resigning as well. So, dear Collins will be taking over as editor."

Rita did not seem to have heard the last part. "Henry – no, it can't be. He can't be getting married."

"Well, he is," said Shane, frowning slightly at Rita's reaction.

Rita saw his expression and tried to pull herself together. "Who – who's the girl?"

"Ramona Rosier," replied Shane, shaking his head. "Simon Rosier's mysterious thirty-seven year old sister and-"

Rita did not wait to hear the rest as she rushed to Henry's office.

"Henry!"

Henry looked up from his papers. He had a wary expression on his face. "Good morning, Rita," he said, attempting a smile.

Rita entered the room and the door shut behind her. "Is it true that you're getting married?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. His voice sounded too cheery. "Ramona Rosier…a lovely girl. I've known her for a long time."

"Really?" asked Rita, raising her eyebrows. "She didn't even grow up here. She just returned from France four months ago!"

"I – yes, but I've met her in a few parties and, well, found that I-"

"Like her?" cut in Rita. "Or did you realize that you'll be able to see Margaret regularly if you married her sister-in-law?"

Henry threw the papers on the table. "Watch who you are talking to!"

"I'm talking to a pathetic excuse of a man, that's who," cried Rita. "What did you think, Henry? If you married Simon's sister, you'd get a chance to start an affair with Margaret? The one who made a complete fool out of you in Hogwarts?"

"Shut up!" shouted Henry. "I am not marrying Ramona because of that. She's beautiful, she has class; she's rich enough to let me give up this thankless job and move on; which man wouldn't want her?

The vehemence in Henry's voice shocked Rita. Before she could stop herself, the question escaped her lips. "And _me_?"

Henry laughed. "You? You thought I would want to marry _you_? If that was the case, don't you think I would have done that years ago?"

Rita stared hard at him before turning away abruptly and walking towards the door. She did not want him to see the tears which had returned to mock at her after twenty years.

***

Rita was sitting alone in her room and staring at a scented piece of parchment. A quill determinedly rolled between her right thumb and forefinger.

_Dear Ms. Skeeter,_

_You are cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of Mr. Henry Corner and Ms. Ramona Rosier, of the House of Rosier. The ceremony will be held on the 8__th__ of March, 1984, at Rosier Hall, London. _

_Thank you, _

_Margaret Thornton Rosier._

She had another piece of parchment – a blank one – lying next to the invitation. She was planning to write a letter, apologizing for her inability to attend the ceremony because she had to go to Athens.

_What would I do in Athens_, she thought bitterly. She turned towards the unopened bottle of whisky and empty goblet on her table. After filling the goblet to the brim, she took up the quill again.

_Dear Mrs. Rosier,_

_Thank you for the invitation, but I am sorry to say-_

She stopped there, put down the quill and took up the goblet instead. She downed the whisky in one long draw, leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes.

She was back where she had started, wasn't she? Alone, friendless, and without the one thing she wanted at that moment. Back then, it had been a pet. Right now, it was a man. The only difference was that she no longer kept insects in jars, for she could become one now. The thought made her laugh, and her laughter filled the small bedroom, making her jump.

Is this what her life had been hurtling to? All that lying and spying? Those years spent on becoming an Animagus? Her own metamorphosis into a woman she _donned_ rather than was?

Of course, she had lost herself a long time back, so she had no other option but to don one; Nathan had been kind enough to remind her six months ago. _Was that just six months ago_? She had been such a fool to think that Henry would never leave her. She had always thought they had been comrades in their crusades; together they had spun so many yarns, and together they had taken revenge on a world which had robbed them of certain things. And Henry had said it so easily – _thankless job_, he had called it.

Of course, Rita had been fighting the world mostly for Henry. Maybe she had known he would never love her, but she had mistaken his celibacy for – _respect_ for her feelings? Was that the delusion she had been laboring under all these years?

She filled the empty goblet again.

Now, the truth - the unpleasant truth was out in the open in more or less the same way she and Henry had advertised others' secrets. Henry was out of her life now, the fire had been extinguished – and all that remained were some charred wood and ash.

She was Rita Skeeter now, just that. The realization made her feel as though she had gained some sort of freedom. And cold emptiness.

***

"Ah, Ritalina," trilled a voice Rita didn't fail to recognize. "You came."

Rita saw Margaret coming towards her - the woman looked as beautiful as ever in her forest green robes. Rita put on a smile. _You bested her. Never forget that_. "Margaret Thornton…lovely to see you."

Rita handed over her present for the couple to Margaret who Vanished it with a wave of her hand. "And why wouldn't I come?" continued Rita. "After all, Henry is marrying _your_ sister-in-law."

A scowl appeared on Margaret's face, but she recovered quickly. "Henry was hauled up with you for so long I thought you'd surely end up together," she began in a carrying voice, "but I could see it was just an unfortunate assumption on my part. So, I took the liberty of introducing him to Ramona."

"But dear Henry never stopped loving you," said Rita in an even louder voice. The people around them turned to look at them. "I was so surprised to learn that he wasn't marrying you yourself."

Margaret's nostrils flared, but apparently she figured it wouldn't be wiser to continue this verbal duel, and did not continue in the same vein. "You jest so well, Ritalina," she said, smiling coldly. "I wish I could continue this banter, but I must attend to our other guests. Excuse me."

Margaret turned and disappeared, much to Rita's satisfaction. She waved at the people who had been gaping at her – then she spotted who she had come to meet. The woman quickly left the area as soon as Rita had caught her eye, but Rita was too quick for her.

"One minute, Bertha!" said Rita.

Bertha Jorkins walked ahead hurriedly, but Rita took a short cut and blocked her path.

"Running away, are we?" asked Rita.

"N-no, I wasn't," replied Bertha. However, her instant licking of her lips gave her away. "What do you want from me?"

"Just a nice little chat," said Rita, smiling. "If you know what I mean," she added with a wink.

"No, I don't! Let me go."

Rita laughed softly. "Do you think I would let you go that easily, Bertha? After what you did during your second year at Hogwarts?"

Bertha slipped her hand into her pocket; she seemed ready to hex her way out of this. Rita raised her eyebrows. "You try hexing me in front of everyone, you idiotic woman, and I'll shout for the entire world to hear that it was you. Margaret won't be too pleased."

Bertha gave up the idea. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I just want you to spill everything you can on Ramona Rosier right now," said Rita smoothly.

"I can't talk about the Rosiers!" whispered Bertha fearfully. "They'd kill me."

"My, my! Look who's getting scrupulous – the infamous Bertha Jorkins," said Rita with a smirk. "And would they spare you if they knew about what you've already done?"

Bertha looked both scared and furious, but she seemed to have decided she couldn't get out if it. "All right!" she hissed finally. "But we can't talk here."

"That can be arranged," said Rita airily. "Why don't we meet at…"

***

"Rita!" said Jimmy Collins shakily. "I am not sure if we should publish this."

"Why not?" asked Rita, trying to keep the impatience in her voice in check. Collins was someone who entertained notions of right and wrong – always an obstacle in _her _trade.

"Think of the consequences, Rita," cried Jimmy. "Henry's still away on his honeymoon. It would be ungrateful of us to welcome him back with this scandal."

_Dear Henry is used to scandals as far as his love life goes, _thought Rita with a smirk. "Henry does not work with us anymore, Jimmy. He called working at the _Prophet _a 'thankless job,' remember?"

Jimmy's eyes widened; apparently he had not heard about this bit, though Rita had announced it to a few colleagues a week ago and the news had spread like wildfire. "Did he?"

"Yes, that's what he said," said Rita seriously. "In any case, the _Prophet _has never shied away from publishing such news. It's one of the reasons why our readers love the paper, Jimmy. It's our duty to give them what they want to read."

Jimmy covered his face with his hands, sighing heavily. "Rita," he mumbled, "it's going to shake the wizarding world, it is. Think about it: _Former Editor of _The Daily Prophet _marries Wallace Thornton's former mistress. _The headline is enough to cause a massive controversy. And…this is the Rosiers and Thorntons we are talking about. Is it wise to go after them like this?"

Rita leaned forward. "Wallace Thornton has been dead for the last five years, Jimmy. The Thornton family is as good as extinct. As for Simon, or anyone related to him, for that matter, if they make one wrong move, the Aurors are waiting. After Evan Rosier's unmasking, I don't think the remaining Rosiers are going to try anything stupid."

Jimmy looked up at her finally. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

Rita's face did not betray any of the emotions that were raging inside her. "Yes, I have. That's what I always do."

"All right, then," said Jimmy at long last. "I suppose we could go ahead with it."

Rita nodded at him and got up to leave. She was just about to open the door when Jimmy stopped her.

"But, Rita," said Jimmy. "I'm a little surprised."

Rita turned back. "Surprised? Why?"

"I thought you and Henry were friends," said Jimmy in a tone which implied he was no longer sure.

Rita laughed. "Oh no, we were just colleagues who worked well together. Just that. I was his 'star reporter' as he called it – the one who got him the best news. And he…he was just an editor who took to my ideas. But he has left. So, we are done with each other."

"Professional, aren't you?" asked Jimmy, smiling uncertainly.

Rita gave him a wink and walked out of the room without another word.

*******

All characters and premises belong to J.. However, the Corner brothers, Simon Rosier and the Thorntons are mine. ;)


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